(Wednesday, March 1, 2017)
Following along the usual patterns of each year, I found myself today suddenly slipping from the edge of February and into a deep and elusive March. Spring is just around the corner, spools of cool and warm air move in and out – trying to decide when we will feel the arrival of the Equinox and its seasonal (and in SoCal, somewhat eternal) warm breeze. It never quite goes away, but March brings a reminder that we are tired of the frosty repetition. Tired of our brittle crust, static cling and chapped lips. Ready for moisture, warmth and light. The evidence is there..
Birthday tulips, sunrise palms, afternoon branches and dog walk shadows.
Golden hour peaks during Spring and Fall and oh how I love it so….
+So up until this point I’ve managed to be thoughtful and poignant. Now I am lost. I want to bring up my real life and what’s been happening, but as usual I feel hesitant. I feel busy. I feel tired. I want to share, but it’s become apparent that I was once a great writer, but maybe not so much anymore. I’ll tell you what I’m really good at – work emails. Succinct and to the point, demanding but still nice. I try to write a blog and I’ll I can recall are facts and no creativity. I thought of it all before, on the way to work or on the way home, but as soon as I get here – I lose it. It’s hard to find those creative moments and when I do, I usually “don’t have time”. Or I’m just tired and my brain has shut off.
I’m so tired of people being busy. Is it just me? That’s life, you say. So WHAT, I say. I’m fuckin busy but I still make time for people. They just don’t make time for me. I keep thinking that if your life is all about some job (and it always is), then how do you really have a life? Work hard until you’re 50 until it finally pays off? Work hard until it never pays off and you have a heart attack and die or decide to sit on a sidewalk curb for the rest of your days? I feel like the main struggle I have sometimes is just to try and not be a shitty person because of my own personal needs for my well-being.
We have to take care of ourselves, but then we also have to give, give, give. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a giver. I don’t even know what I am anymore. People seem to like me, a lot, but I’m always lacking in true friendships (or just someone that will give me their time). I give at work as much as I can, but even then – I find myself thinking that I wouldn’t be doing this unless I had to. I have to think about everyone else and their needs and foresee future priorities and shit, and so it’s no wonder my personal life gets the shit end of the stick. I don’t have time to send cards and gifts in the mail – also gifts that are thoughtful and super relevant. I can clean and wash dishes and make everything tidy AF, but in the end people really don’t seem to care about that. But I do, care.
My creative work is important, but so I can make a paycheck I feel like I’m abandoning the creative person I really could be. And while this seems very sad (to me, at least), I know that in life you have to make sacrifices. You have to deal with people not noticing you until you stir up the pot enough to make a difference. Or stir it up enough with controversy and you have no choice but to choose the path you were to afraid to choose in the first place.
If I didn’t have Eddie I’d probably be living back in Santa Cruz under a rock.
It’s just one of those days where I finally chose to write about the things I’ve been thinking about. Constantly. I’m always contemplating life and if I chose the right path for me. And feeling like the path I’m currently on isn’t that easy to side-step anymore. As much as I want to go off the beaten path, I can’t.